


A Place To Belong

by dinolaur



Series: 100 Bucky Feels to Counter 100 Tony Kills [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinolaur/pseuds/dinolaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's mother dies, and Bucky's not about to let his friend be stuck out on the streets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place To Belong

Bucky has been taking care of Steve all their lives, protecting him out on the streets from punks and bullies who think it’s okay to pick on him because of his size. Sometimes Steve gets bent out of shape about it, and Bucky can see why. They’re men. They don’t want anyone to think they need someone else to handle their problems for them. And he’s told Steve countless times. He doesn’t do it out of pity or because he thinks Steve can’t handle himself. He’s told Steve that even if Steve were bigger than him he’d still do it. It’s because Steve is his brother, and he takes care of his family.

And so Bucky really hates that there’s nothing he can do about this. There’s nothing he can punch or threaten or even bribe—not that he’s got a lot to offer anyone monetarily. All he can do is sit there and watch as Steve desperately tries to keep his mother alive but she’s fading, fading, and then she’s gone.

Pneumonia.

It’s crazy, Bucky thinks. Tiny, frail Steve has had pneumonia a few times, and he always shakes it. But Mrs. Rogers got it once, and she couldn’t come out of it.

Steve’s pretty messed up about it. His mother was the only blood family he had. They were close, and Steve’s young. Too young to be an orphan. Bucky knows how that is. He’s one too.

There’s no money for the type of service and funeral Mrs. Rogers deserves. It’s not much better than a mass and tea afterwards, a line of fellow nurses, a couple of doctors, and longtime neighbors offering Steve condolences. Steve keeps a strong face through it all, but when it’s over, when everyone’s left and they’ve taken the coffin away, Bucky’s the only one left to see him cry.

There’s no point loitering around, so Bucky hooks an arm around Steve’s shoulders and leads him out of the church. His friend is pretty out of it and doesn’t notice that they aren’t in the right apartment building until Bucky walks them into a bare, kind of run down set of rooms.

“What’s this,” Steve asks, and Bucky ignores the slight sniffle.

“Our new place,” Bucky answers.

“Our new—what?”

“I signed the lease a couple days ago,” Bucky says.

“With what money,” Steve asks. Because right now Bucky’s only got part time work, it’s hardly enough to do much of anything. He lives in the storeroom of Mr. Sanderson’s, who served in the Great War with Bucky’s old man, grocery store free of charge. And you don’t find generosity like that twice in times like these.

“I’ve been saving a while,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Tomorrow or in a couple of days if you need it, we can swing by your mom’s and grab anything you want to take and deal with what’s left.”

“Bucky, I can’t just live here,” Steve starts.

“It ain’t for free, buddy,” he says quickly. The last thing Steve needs right now is to feel pitied. “But I figure if we budget right, we can get by fine on both our checks. And you can’t be by yourself.”

Steve’s eyes are still wet, but his glare is hard. “I can handle it, Bucky.”

Bucky glares right back. “Steve, your mom just died. You think I’m going to let you just deal with that by yourself? You need a place, and even together we couldn’t afford your old one.”

Steve crosses his arms. “I seem to recall you needing a home after your dad died, me offering, and you refusing.”

“I wasn’t going to ask your mother to take care of me too,” Bucky says. “Times is tough. And you’re not even eighteen yet.”

“Bucky, you only turned eighteen last month,” Steve says dryly.

Bucky shrugs. “Still older than you,” he says with a grin. “That means I know best.” There’s a little tick in Steve’s cheek that’s a sign that he’s trying not to smile. Bucky sobers a bit. “I mean it, Steve. You know you need a new place, and I’m sick of freeloading. This place isn’t as nice as your old one, but I promise it’s better than a storage room.”

Steve shrugs feebly. He wants to be stubborn about this, but he knows there’s no point. The recession is getting better, but it’s still pretty bad out there. For kids like them, there’s no making it on their own. They need someone to lean on. “Yeah, I guess,” he says a few moments later.

Bucky pats him on the shoulder and walks over to the kitchenette. There’s a refrigerator, one of the few things actually in the apartment, and he pulls out a couple of beers he stashed there after signing the lease. He hands one off to Steve, and they slide down the wall, sitting side by side. Every once and a while, Steve sniffles or runs the back of his hand over his eyes. Bucky puts an arm around him and keeps him close. He knows. He knows what it feels like, losing that last bit of family and that safety net that parents provide. You feel lost without it, especially now when the entire world’s economy is shit.

But Bucky’s been on his own long enough, was pretty much there even when his dad was still alive. He’s got his feet steady under him. And he’ll be there to balance Steve out until he can get there too. 


End file.
